How I spent spring break 3: Ceiling tiles

I had my eyes closed more often than not that first week, or at least that's how it seems. I would go through anything I had to go through, but that didn't mean I had to watch it.

I spent the first five days in the hospital. Nobody could figure out what had happened to me for two days, then a wonderful physical therapist saw me and had the notion that my quadriceps were what was (or was not) happening. Two MRIs later, the surgeon came to my room and told me that the surgery was scheduled for early the next morning.

On the way to surgery, I watched the tiles on the ceilings while I was being wheeled in. I thought that I might need that for a song someday.

I was put under. Surgery was performed. I woke up and was wheeled back to my room. I don't need to know the details. At times, denial can be your best friend. I don't remember if I looked at the ceiling tiles or not.

I don't remember what songs went through my mind or what I had for lunch. I remember having chips of ice and really enjoying them. I remember that the Grammy awards were on TV that night and being impressed with Kendrick Lamar and the opening number from Hamilton.

I remember that it wasn't like the first night, when my mind unconsciously replayed the moment of the fuckin' accident over and over.

The surgery was over. Now it was time for the recovery to begin, like it or not.

gonna get better

you have to believe
things are gonna get better
'cause if you don't believe
things will only get worse
life will improve
if you only let it
it's your choice, darlin'
blessing or curse

I hungered to play the piano

It's the fourth of July and I'm listening to this great program on the radio about Eubie Blake. This music is fuckin' amazing, man! I love that piano. Man, I coulda been one hell of a pianist if I had had access to a piano when I was a kid. I hungered to play the piano.

But you eventually learned, right, farmboy?

I did, when I was fourteen. I put guitar chords to the piano.

I remember the day we got the piano. My father and my uncles moved this piano, this old big black upright, and before it even got inside I was playing it. I remember just walking up to the piano and sitting down and playing it without a word. It was like it was meant to be, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like having a dream come true. It was fuckin' awesome, man.

Sounds pretty wonderful, farmboy.

It was...I have no words. I just thank God it happened. Fuckin' changed my life, man.

Isolation, man, it's a fuckin' killer

So I've been so lonely, so fuckin' isolated. So I decided that since I'm housesitting I might as well have some friends over and have, like, a kind of get-together. And that's just what finished up. It's too bad you couldn't make it, man.

I know! Thanks for the invitation, though. Hopefully next time. How did it go, farmboy?

It went fine, despite me worrying about everything. It was, like, a make-your-own burrito night. Chips and salsa and beans and chicken and beef and tortillas.

Sounds good.

Thanks. It was pretty good and it was great seeing people. Isolation, man, it's a fuckin' killer. And when you can't leave the house and you're all by yourself...well, it's just fucked.

But you did something about it, farmboy.

Yeah, I did. And I'm pretty proud of myself.

You are? That's great!

Okay, maybe not that proud.

Farmboy, you need to learn how to give yourself a little credit. You're always doing this. Something good happens and you just take it away.

Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. It's just what I do.

You know, I played a song today and my friends said wonderful things. And I just went passed all that stuff until this one friend, Matt, said something like "Did you hear all the praise about your song? I just want to make sure you heard all that stuff."

Perfect. Matt sounds like a good guy.

Oh, he is, he's the best. And it was totally true. I just cruised right over all the positive feedback like it never happened. He wanted me to actually hear it.

And so I did.

Good.

Yeah, it is good. It's just a little hard when you're not used to doing it, you know? But I can learn. I really can.

How I spent spring break 2: A full recovery

My experiences these past few months are best described by the word surreal. It's like some weird type of time machine -- one second you're here, next second you're there, in this alternate life you didn't know you had. The people in your everyday life are now demoted to cameos where they once were stars. Suddenly you're surrounded by all these new people and what's more, you're dependent on them.

Once I get past the horrors and the miracles of the first week after the accident, I'm amazed how upbeat I was for the first month and a half. In some ways it was miserable in rehab, this being in braces and not sleeping stuff, but I was being taken care of by amazing people and musician friends were coming by with instruments and playing and visiting. It was like having my own venue. I have astoundingly talented friends. I didn't have to do laundry or clean or, thank God, cook. I didn't have to go to The Fuckin' Job (more about that later). 

I realize now that I felt like I couldn't afford to be miserable. This was very serious stuff I had happening. I had torn both quadriceps from the muscle area above the knees. The surgery was successful and the surgeon said I would have a full recovery.

A full recovery. Those, my friends, are like magic words. No matter what, I was going to heal. It was just going to take some work.

How I spent spring break: an article

Let's get this part out of the way: I was on the most crowded bus I've ever seen, with passengers in the aisles, in the exits. It was rush hour. I usually take the front exit when I get off the bus, but I couldn't get to it with all the people getting on. So I took the back exit, which was higher than the front exit and the sidewalk.

And I fell. Hard. On my knees. On cement and gravel.

The ambulance was called. A very kind and calm young woman talked to me, as I lay on the gravel in the rain and my legs unable to move.

I went to the hospital emergency room, where I was one of many, many people needing help. I was admitted into a room eventually, where I was given pain pills that made me feel like I was riding on a ferris wheel. It was fun, in a way.

And with that everything changed on Thursday, February 11. I would not see my apartment for four months.

how not to be lonely

maybe I don't know
how not to be lonely 
maybe it's the only
way that I know